


To Know, To Love

by Gingervivi



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, Slow Burn, canon typical deaths?, character death but it isn't permanent due to cycles, lucretia is a lesbian and lup is bi fight me, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 17:42:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13956735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gingervivi/pseuds/Gingervivi
Summary: Lucretia, the lonely journal keeper, isn't too lonely with Lup.





	To Know, To Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lluxarum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lluxarum/gifts).



> An extra-belated merry Christmas to my buddy Llewyn! While this is her ship and not one I'm AS on board with, writing this fic kinda sorta made me ship it too and so it ended up becoming way longer than intended. I've got more coming, but I didn't want to hold on to this gift forever, so here's the first part which can stand alone.

Lucretia’s heart was never meant to fall slowly. The realization would hit her like a ton of bricks, all at once and painful beyond belief: she loved Lup. It hadn’t been the first time something like this had happened. That was her life, she supposed – of hiding behind the scenes, able to capture everything as she was far, far removed. Every gesture, every laugh, every breath read into and dissected. Knowing someone so intimately brought the curse of loving them.

But this was the first time it didn’t feel like a curse.

Perhaps it was due to the fact it felt like they were already trapped, living a year at a time with the constant overhanging threat of pure, unadulterated despair trailing after them like a shadow – a shadow of a jumper, reuniting once their time in the air is up only to jump back up again. Yet it was those jumps, those cycles, that dropped those bricks on Lucretia in the first place.

It was the tenth cycle, and it was Lup’s first death. The planet was that of vines and seemingly nothing else.

“Fucking vines,” Lup yelled, blasting another fireball at the rapturous plants. The vines couldn’t make sounds, but Lucretia swore they hissed at Lup’s magic as they recoiled back from the Starblaster. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

“Have you tried asking politely?” Merle asked. Lup threw a fireball at him, purposefully missing, but Merle seemed to get the message and scurried back inside.

Above was the tenth time they saw the now familiar sight of the Hunger. Right on time. It was nearly a year to the day.

Lup’s scowl tightened as her attacks become more rapid, less powerful, just trying to get the vines to let loose long enough to get the ship off the ground.

Lucretia still stood on the loading platform of the Starblaster, her hand resting against the support pole as she watched Lup work her magic. She was watching, memorizing the scene. The desperate attempts of the vines, Lup’s perseverance, the feeling of worry that radiated from every member of the IPRE.

She wondered if the vines were sentient, if they knew the Starblaster was the only escape from being consumed by the Hunger since they hadn’t acted this aggressively all year. Perhaps Merle’s suggestion wasn’t completely bat shit crazy.

The first strike of the Hunger jolted both the Starblaster and the vines, hitting the ground somewhere nearby. It doesn’t quite rock the ship but shook it enough that Lucretia wrapped her arms around the support beam of the bridge to stay steady. She watches as Lup stays steady, remaining steadfast in her fight to free the Starblaster, one in which she was winning but all too slowly. The shock to the vines seemed to have some effect, but not enough for Lup to join Lucretia on the platform.

“Lup!” Lucretia yelled. “I’m sure that’s enough!” She had no idea if that was the truth.

“No!” Lup yelled back, her voice starting to sound both hoarse and breathless. “They’ve still got the ship over here. Get Capin’ Port to start!”

Lucretia wanted to argue but knew that Lup’s idea was truly the only one at the moment worth doing. She couldn’t well argue that Lup should abandon her work (her fire was the only thing keeping the vines at bay) and trying to get Lup to get on the ship to save her life at the expense of possibly their survival was foolish seeing as they all came back with every cycle. Though with some hesitation, Lucretia nodded and ran up the platform to the controls to relay the order. Davenport wordlessly agreed and set the ship into motion.

The Starblaster groaned at the restraint of the vines still attached until, suddenly, the remaining attached vines snapped or Lup destroyed them and the ship took off with unhindered speed all at once with the full weight of the thrusters. Lucretia ran back to the open hatch with one thought, one word at her lips, “Lup!”

Magnus pulled her back, his forearm hitting her square in her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. Someone slammed a button and the platform began to raise, the image of Lup standing among the vines – no longer any bursts of fire raining down upon them – slowly fading from view with the distance put between them and this last world until the hatch closed.

Lucretia collapsed in on herself, held up by only Magnus’s arm still around her waist as she cried. She didn’t scream for Davenport to turn back. She just cried with open eyes, her sight fixed on the now closed landing platform, waiting until everything reset itself.

And then everything was in place. Lucretia no longer felt Magnus’s touch, her face suddenly dry through the tears kept forming when she heard:

“HOO BOY!” Lup hollered, kicking open her room and jumping out. “First death!” And she raced over to Magnus for a high five, who gave it to her but also swept her up in a big bear hug, swinging her around.

From some corner of the Starblaster, Merle said, “Catch up, sucker! I’m already at three!”

Lucretia hurried to wipe away the new tears before turning around to Lup and the others. “It’s not a race,” she scolded, walking into the main room of the ship. She watched as Magnus traded soft spoken words with Lup that Lucretia couldn’t catch on the other side of the room, and then Magnus left, calling to Merle about fixing his new-old black eye.

“Hey,” Lup said, unmoving but not meeting Lucretia’s gaze.

“Hey,” Lucretia returned. The room felt stale, the air palpable. “How are you? You know- first time and all.”

Lup cracked a grin – that Lucretia knew wasn’t completely sincere – and tucked a strand of her blond hair behind her pointed ear before finally looking Lucretia in the eyes. “Bad, but in the same way a smoke tastes like shit the first time. I- …no, you probably don’t want the details.”

No, she didn’t. At this point, it was just herself and Davenport who hadn’t died, and she was in no rush to find out what it was like. More to this situation, she just didn’t want to know the pain of Lup’s death. When it came to the Hunger, she doubted it was pleasant.

“But you’re good? Now?” Lucretia asked, daring to take the first steps towards the other woman. This time, Lup’s smile seems a little more real. But… her eyes. Lucretia couldn’t tear herself from Lup’s eyes, her ability to read people showing her the sadness, the fear that Lup wouldn’t ever let on.

“Yeah. I’m good now.”

And that’s when the bricks, the realization hit her. It crushed her entirely.

***

Year fifteen, month ten, Lucretia died. It was an evening coated in a darkness so thick she could hardly see her hands. She had been out, recording something that struck her interest. Whatever killed her, she had no clue. She just remembered a stabbing pain and then… nothing. Nothing, no pain nor concept of time. She couldn’t recall if she was gone from her body for some time before finding herself reassembled in streams of light back on the Starblaster or if she simply skipped that time, like her soul jumping to when her body would be next available.

Aside from Davenport, who Lucretia returned next to every time the cycle started again, Lup was the first one to greet her. The tap-tap-tap of her feet running from her room to Lucretia consumed Lucretia’s first waking senses after death. Well, until Lup wrapped her arms around her. Lucretia could’ve melted, fallen into a puddle right then and there. She didn’t return the hug – not yet. She dug her head into the crook of Lup’s neck and just stood there, waiting for the memory of her death to fade.

But it didn’t. It never would, she imagined. Finally, she wrapped her own arms around Lup and whispered a soft, “Thanks,” before the thum-thum-thum she recognized as Magnus’s footsteps as Magnus and Taako burst into the control room with what looked like party poppers, likely of Taako’s creation.

“First death!” they both yelled, popping the party favors so that streams of confetti and glitter fell over them before joining in on the hug. Magnus wrapped his arms around Lucretia and the twins, briefly lifting all three of them off the ground. When they all let go, Taako patted her on the back as Lucretia attempted to find her breath after such a strong hug.

“Welcome to the club, hot shot,” Taako said.

Lucretia opened her mouth to respond, but before she had the chance to reply, Davenport pointed outwards and yelled in wonder, “Look at this!”

It stole everyone’s attention, Lucretia’s included, when they turned to look out the window: the world they arrived on was a library. No matter which way the traveled or how far, rows upon rows of books lined this world.

“Wow,” both Barry and Lucretia breathed, their voices soft. 

Their amazement might’ve passed without comment except Lup whispered to them, “Nerds,” and both of them blushed.

Davenport landed them in the widest clearing they could find, which took a while considering the fact this world consisted of fairly uniform rows. It was a sort of cross roads in the world, like a place to change direction if one desired. Yet Lucretia couldn’t help but wonder who would be here to roam this world.

It wasn’t until they landed that they saw any form of life, and even that was a stretch by the definition. The residents of this world were floating wisps of light that tended to the hard covered tomes, tablets, and scrolls. But they weren’t readers or creators. In fact, the collection of information wasn’t limited to this world’s perspective, written in languages some of the IPRE knew or books that they recognized from their home world.

Traveling down one of the aisles as just the two of them, Lup elbowed Lucretia. “The people here – they kind of remind me of you.” Lucretia spared a moment to raise a brow in response but continued walking, stopping only for a moment to grab another book and add it to the pile in Lup’s arms. “They’re just watching over their collection of knowledge that exist outside their own world.”

Absently, Lucretia replied, “So I’m just an observer.”

From the corner of her eye, she could see Lup jump justly slightly. “No! I just meant, you know, you record things. It might not be personally relevant to you, but you carefully write down things to save knowledge and history.” Lup bit her lip. “I think it’s good work.”

Lucretia stopped mid motion, her hand on a half-pulled out book. She looked at Lup, her heart suddenly pounding. She could feel her cheeks heat up, reaching all the way to her ears and neck, but she was unsure if her blush was apparent on her darker skin. One of the keepers of this world floated over and past them, lighting Lup’s features – her several earrings glinting in the light, her crooked but white teeth showing in an awkward and humble smile, and her brilliant brown eyes bright with affection.

“Thanks,” Lucretia said, suddenly at a loss of words in one of the few moments in her life. She returned the smile given, both awkward and humble. She watched as Lup shifted the books in her arms and only then did Lucretia realize how many she had piled onto Lup. “H-here, let me help.”

Lucretia tried to reach forward and take half the books but Lup took a quick and long step back, keeping them out of her reach. Suddenly, the sly and mischievous Lup was back and her grin turned wicked.

“You said we needed to study while we can take advantage of the knowledge, and that’s what we’re going to do. You can’t keep picking out books unless your hands are free.”

Lup’s words sounded too soft, too affectionate to match the traits she wore on her shoulders and face, but it was hard for Lucretia to argue with what she said. She just nodded in agreement and continued on, though the books she picked from then on stayed in her arms.

“Why didn’t you pick out anything?” Lucretia asked on their way back to the Starblaster, both of them carrying books in their arms up to their chins. Her arms only now began to ache, and she had wished Lup would’ve given her some of the books she carried earlier when she tried to take her share. How tired was Lup? Was she even sore? “You’re an accomplished wizard, are you not? I would’ve thought you’d have some interest in picking something of your own.”

“Ahh, well, we’re here for a year right? We’ll have time,” Lup said with a shrug, a few of the books she carried threatening to fall with a wobble. “To be honest, I’m not that much of a reader. Both Taako and I – our magic was really practical for the longest time. Even when we did study, I was always so restless. I prefer experiments to books.”

“Sounds like evocation matches you quite well then,” Lucretia suggested, a faint smile playing on her lips, careful not to be so forward.

“What about you, Miss Journal Keeper? I know you’ve got magic. Spill the beans. What school did you study?”

“Oh, I studied abjuration. Barriers, protective wards, the like. It’s certainly nothing as extensive as the training you or Taako or Barry have.”

Lup surprised Lucretia with a hearty laugh so much that a few of her own books fell to the floor and she struggled to lean down and return them to her stack. As she attempted that feat, Lup just plopped herself down on the floor with her back resting against a bookcase and setting her books down rather unceremoniously. Above, a wisp seemed to flicker and hiss – a warning, Lucretia thought, considering it left them alone afterwards.

“What was so funny about that?” Lucretia asked, abandoning her efforts to grab the extra books with her pile still in her hands. She placed the books down with careful deliberation, stacked them into shorter, sturdier piles, and moved to sit next to Lup in a similar fashion.

Lup was still holding back a few laughs, her hand over her mouth and her jaw clenched shut. At this point, Lucretia couldn’t help but frown.

“Oh, don’t pout!” Lup exclaimed, her face that of adoration as she looked at Lucretia.

“I’m not pouting!”

“You totally are!” Lup cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled into the night sky, “Lucretia is pouting!”

In the distance, Lucretia swore she heard a soft voice – Taako’s, most likely – yell back, “Nice!” Lucretia rolled her eyes.

“Why is it so surprising?” Lucretia asked yet again. Her earlier blush and affection seemed preposterous in this moment looking back on it. Her. Why of all people did Lup make her heart turn in her chest?

Finally calming down, Lup replied with a hint of laughter in her voice, “I’m not sure. I mean, I’ve seen you do magic, but why abjuration? Weren’t you a writer by profession back home? Ghost writing and biographies and stuff? What did you need abjuration magic for? I would’ve pegged you for enchantment or divination.”

“Divination?”

“Yeah, like, you know those spells you can use to find the truth behind stuff or to see someone for who they are. I figured that would make some sense.”

“You make me sound like a reporter on a quest for truth and justice.” Lucretia couldn’t hide the sigh that found its way into her tone. She pulled in a deep breath and held it for a moment, closing her eyes and calming herself to ask the question, “Why did you choose evocation?”

“I thought we already went through this?”

“No, I mean, what started you on that path. It couldn’t have just been being restless.” She turned to look at Lup who, to her surprise, wasn’t looking back at her but up at the starry sky.

They stayed there like that, silent and unmoving for a while. Lucretia couldn’t bear to break the silence as much as she could to withdraw her question. She waited patiently, watching the light in Lup’s eyes flicker like a flame as another wisp passed overhead. Her long lashes, her pointed nose, and thick lips evident as she gazed upon her profile. Nothing about Lup seemed subtle, and it all the more contrasted with how she was acting now.

Finally, Lup let out a sigh and said, “To protect Taako. He’s strong, but… we were on our own for quite a while. It was never really a decision I remember making, but it’s also not one I resent or regret, assuming the role as protector for the both of us. Making something go _boom_ , don’t get me wrong, is fun and exciting, but I don’t destroy for the sake of hurting others.”

Lucretia felt a smile tug at the corner of her lip and remembered why her chest filled with butterflies with Lup in moments like these. “A couple cycles ago, you demolished an empty building for the fun of it.”

Lup finally turned to look at her and positively glowed, and Lucretia could swear that the flicker in her eyes wasn’t like a fire but _  
_ one. “But isn’t there something grand about destruction? Besides, that kind of energy? That kind of power? I need it to fight against the Hunger and protect you guys. And using it to blow off some steam on some stupid buildings is a good way to keep up my skills.”

The pride in her was contagious. Lucretia, despite her lack of skill in evocation spells, couldn’t help but be swayed by Lup’s answer. And then it dawned on her that she owed Lup her own answer.

“I’m an only child. I didn’t have a sibling to watch my back, and I’ve always been fairly… reserved. I didn’t have a lot of friends either. I guess it gave me a sense of security I liked.”

She wasn’t sure if it was pity she saw in the way Lup looked at her, but it didn’t particularly bother her if it was. Being alone was never a problem she saw that needed to be fixed. It did make her life before seem like a stranger now, having physically aged no more than however many days they were into a cycle yet having spent almost every minute of the last decade and then some with the same six people, people she now considered to be friends, who she admired and cared for, who she couldn’t imagine being without anymore.

“When it came time in the academy to pick a school of magic, it just made the most sense to choose abjuration. Writing came first, not magic. I had no need of conjuration, enchantment – certainly not necromancy or evocation. Plus, I never thought I’d need to use magic on… this kind of level. My skills in it are still fairly novice.” She bit at her bottom lip and let it slide out of between her teeth before she said, “I feel bad making you go first. Yours was certainly more personal than mine.”

Lucretia didn’t notice Lup move, not until she felt her arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. Under a sea of stars, surrounded by towering cases of books – writing, what used to be her entire life – and the two of them as spots of red in an otherwise rather monotonous night, Lup said, “I’m sorry I laughed.”

* * *

The world didn’t have regular day cycles. Night could last days, and the sun could be in the sky for mere hours, and then the day cycle after that could be an equal distribution of sun and moon. Most days, Lucretia hardly noticed, hidden away in her room on the Starblaster under a pile of books. Barry and herself had formed something of an academic routine at this point. Tea and a light breakfast in the morning, reading until noon, and reporting back in the evening to discuss and document what they learned. It varied to some degree, sometimes the other members of the IPRE joining them but never with the same kind of conviction and dedication the two of them shared.

Still, Lucretia found comfort in Lup being by her side regardless if they conversed or not. Sometimes, she’d leave and come back with more books that she or Barry had requested. Occasionally, she’d come back with books of her own and read next to her. Just her warmth by Lucretia’s side was a blessing beyond words, words she’d yet to find the courage to say aloud.

At breakfast one morning, halfway into the cycle, Lup stood up on the table – something neither Barry nor Lucretia noticed until Lup demanded their attention by saying, “Listen up losers! I’m in charge today!”

Lucretia looked up from her book – A History of Entropy and Its Practical Functions – to Lup and then to their Captain, who looked just as, if not more, befuddled as Lucretia. His brows were drawn down in an angry kind of confusion.

“What? You can’t just-“

“Well I just did and you’re going to have to deal with it.”

Barry – bless him – raised his hand.

“Yes, Barold. You may speak.”

“What does you being in charge mean for us? Lucretia and I are trying to read as much so we can so when the cycle ends and we take books with us into the next cycle, we won’t lose out on too much knowledge.”

“Yes, yes, I understand the stakes. You and Lucretia have permission to read, but the rest of you suckers are with me.”

Lucretia looked to Taako, Magnus, and Merle, who didn’t seem as surprised by the sudden coup as they seemed entertained. Taako in particular looked excited.

“Hell yeah!” Taako exclaimed, jumping up to stand. “Finally some fun, right sis?”

“Right bro.”

Merle raised his hand, and Magnus pushed it back down. “No, it’s not going to involve erotic literature.”

Lucretia nearly spit out her tea and forced herself to calm down as she looked over at Merle who looked absolutely dejected while resigned to whatever fate Lup had in store for them. Lup stepped down from the table and gestured for the four other members of the IPRE to follow her, leaving Barry and herself the only remaining members in the Starblaster.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Barry asked, “That was weird, right?” Lucretia slowly nodded, eyes still trained on the opening of the Starblaster.

When waiting revealed nothing, the two readers eventually fell back into their accustomed habit of this cycle, though reading together than separately this time – fear entrenched in them of what their found family members were planning. The only sound that passed in the Starblaster were the turning of pages and each other’s breath. When one book was finished, the reader picked up a notepad and quill, writing down important notes before moving onto the next book.

It had to be hours later when Lucretia stood up to make herself a mid-day snack and heard Barry set aside his book as well.

“So Lup, huh?” Barry asked, leaning on the kitchen counter by his arm awkwardly. He shifted, trying to make it look comfortable or natural to no avail and settled on leaning against it with his back instead, his head against one of the cupboards.

“What about her?” Lucretia returned. Her voice was strained to neutrality, hoping – dare, even praying – that whatever Barry was attempting to converse did not include _her_.

“What do you think she has planned?”

Lucretia couldn’t hide her relief, her shoulders falling with a sigh. “No clue.”

“Really? She’s spent more time with you this cycle than anyone else. I figured you’d probably know.”

She shook her head, her white curls brushing against her skin with the sharp movement. “I think… I think she’s just being nice to me, making sure I’m alright after my- my first death.”

He considered that, his hand on his chin. She took that pause to escape, returning back to the table with her food and attempting to settle back in to whatever comfort she left; it didn’t come easily, feeling Barry’s intrigue following her every movement. Despite herself, her eyes flicked back to him and saw him still in the kitchen, his mouth open with a thought he didn’t voice, instead closing it with a shake of his head.

Night came relatively, the moon and stars having hanged in the sky since what they considered dawn. Noise sounded outside of the Starblaster, nearly drawing aware the reader’s attention with avid curiosity. When Barry attempted to sneak a peek at the commotion, his head was met with a burst of flame that sent a message to both of them without the need for words. Patting out the small fire on the top of his head, he sat back down, dejected.

It wouldn’t be another hour until Magnus came up the ramp and kneeled before them and closed his eyes. Barry and Lucretia looked to each other and then back to Magnus. He peeked through one eye and then tapped his shoulders. When that didn’t send the message he wanted, he whispered. “Sit. On. My. Shoulders.”

Lucretia laughed, her hands over her mouth and her body doubling over. Her heart ached with a warmness she had come to know with the IPRE the last decade and a half though was still unused to the feeling. She felt Barry’s hand on her back, motioning her forward with him. He looked just as entertained and loved as she felt, and they both took a seat – awkwardly, she might add – on Magnus’s shoulders, one on each side.

Her head barely skimmed the roof of the Starblaster as Magnus stood up to his full potential, each step careful and deliberate as the three of them exited the ship. Outside was a bonfire, made of what Lucretia could only assume were torn down shelves. The half-treated burns on Taako’s and Davenport’s skin made Lucretia wonder if it was the wisps of this place that retaliated to the deconstruction of one of their bookcases.

Around the fire were sticks, and next to Taako was a large plate of graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate squares. How he procured them, Lucretia couldn’t fathom a guess.

“Our guests of honor!” Lup proclaimed. She stood tall, mighty, and proud on the opposite side of the fire from where Lucretia (and by extension, Magnus and Barry) was. Taako, Davenport, and Merle clapped and cheered at their entrance. Magnus, unable to clap, still bellowed a loud cheer. As the coordinator of this event, Lup did none of that, but the look in her eyes as she focused her sight on Lucretia was more than enough for her.

Magnus carefully took a knee, and Barry and Lucretia slipped off his shoulders. Before them, and dangerously too close to the fire for her liking, where two precarious thrones of books. A quick look to Barry to see if he was handling this as well as she showed her the furious blush of attention on his face, his glasses glaring in the light of the fire to obstruct his eyes. He quickly took a seat, nearly leaning back before realizing the possible effects of that action.

“Before you,” Lup said, drawing out each word, “are our two hardest workers this cycle. Able to read a thousand words a minute-“

“A thousand?” Barry echoed, but Lup didn’t notice or, if she had, continued on uninterrupted.

“- with full comprehension and read from dusk till dawn with no rests, so sustenance, nothing but unending focus!” Lup stopped, her hand raised in the air, and left everyone hanging on her words. Then she dropped her hand, pointing at Lucretia and Barry. “Are our very own, our very loved, our unreplaceable nerds, _Barry and Lucretia!”_

The way she said their names, with each syllable segmented and drawn out, drew a cheer from everyone, the guests of honor included. The blush Barry wore was growing stronger, and Lucretia felt her own blush reddening her skin all the way to the tips of her ears.

Finally, Lup sat down on the ground with the others and looked up almost expectantly at Lucretia, her eyes only flickering to Barry as a courtesy. When neither of them knew what to do, Lup prompted Lucretia to tell them all stories.

“Of what?” she asked. “What we’ve read here or-“

“Of home,” Lup answered.

A lump formed in Lucretia’s throat. Home. The word held a bittersweet taste these days even though the more practical day-to-day use of it referred to the Starblaster.

She settled on the stories she used to write, how she started from a young age. Non-fiction was always her genre of choice, and she told her new family of how she started with her grandfather, asking him and writing down the events of his life he told her. Barely a teenager, she was sure he left a few details out, but the experience and the memory proved more endearing than the result.

She told them of the politicians she ghost-wrote for, the ones nearing the end of their life and desiring a collection of their life in words. She told them of the artists, the servicemen, the scientists, and more that she wrote biographies for – those living and dead. She told them of her knack for details, for capturing every angle.

Lup seemed enchanted, like her being hanged on every word Lucretia uttered. When it was Barry’s turn, Lucretia watched as Lup’s attention would flicker back to her, giving her a smile from across the bonfire and a knowing look.

As a team and a family, the IPRE talked and laughed the night away.

***  
It was the last month of this cycle. This world didn’t contain the kind of life the others did, so the change wasn’t noticeable the way it usually was. Lup was the first one to point out the change in the wisps, that their light dimmed, and that the book covers looked drained of color even when the sun shined directly on them.

Lup blinked back from the ethereal plane into Lucretia’s room, toppling over a stack of books in the process. The books hit the floor (and other books) with varying degrees of thuds and crinkling paper.

“Lup!” Lucretia exclaimed, jumping up from her seat partially from surprise but also out of concern for the books. Both of them fell to their knees to clean up the mess, Lup only helping with one hand. Stopping mid motion, Lucretia’s eyes narrowed at the arm she held behind her back. “What is that?”

Lup looked up, eyes wide with false surprise. “What? I absolutely have no idea what you mean.”

Lucretia set the books in her hands on the nearest stack and tried to reach around Lup to pull her arm forward, but Lup moved back and, in the process, hitting another stack of books with her back. With only luck as her saving grace, this stack was pressed up against the wall, the books shifting only slightly but allowing for her arm to remain behind her back unseen unless Lucretia moved even closer.

And the thought of that drew roses to her cheeks.

“Can you blame me? It’s a surprise. I want you to guess.”

There were very few things on this planet that would be worthy of a gift or a surprise. “A book,” Lucretia said, her voice flat.

Lup’s smile grew. “Got that right, babe.” And from behind her back, she presented a small binding of paper – a manuscript with Lucretia’s name on it.

“The Life and Times of a Father Before Mine,” Lucretia breathed, reading the title.

“I really dug the rhyme.”

Lucretia took the manuscript from Lup’s hands and held it closer. The biography she wrote of her grandfather. It had been here? Were her other works here as well? Still, out of them all, there were none she wanted to hold in her hands more than the one she already had.

“Oh, Lup,” Lucretia said. She felt tears running down her face and she cupped her hand over her mouth to muffle a sob. She laughed, feeling the tears run down her face as she looked at the biography, but what started as tears of joy transitioned into true, real sobs. Her whole body shook and she doubled over, hearing Lup whisper, _Oh no._ And the she felt Lup’s arms around her. Lup’s hands on her back moved up and down and she heard the woman whisper in her ear words of condolences and long, calming shushes.

Between her sobs she heard her door open – probably Magnus, she thought absently – and closer, feeling Lup’s jaw near her ear move, mouthing a silent message.

When she finally stopped, she felt Lup’s arms loosen, giving Lucretia permission to move if she wanted while giving her the option of staying there a little longer. She opted for the latter for another minute or two.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her hands pulling away from Lup to wipe the tears from her eyes. She felt Lup’s hand on her cheek, her thumb brushing away the tears there. Lucretia melted into the touch, pushing some of her weight into the gesture to feel it just a little more, a little stronger.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who-“

“No!” Lucretia interjected. She locked eyes with Lup and pushed away every instinct to look away, to sink back and hide within herself. “This- this is a good gift. It… it just reminded me of who we left behind.”

Lup nodded and pulled her hand back, setting it in her lap as she sat back, looking weighted and tired. Her teeth tugged at her lip, like she wasn’t sure what to say or if she should say it.

“What?” Lucretia prompted, leaning forward slightly.

“Do you… How often do you think about the people we left behind?”

“Every day,” Lucretia answered, her voice firm.

“I wonder...” Lup shook her head. “I can’t stop wondering about _what_ happened to them. We know what the Hunger can do, but when it consumes those worlds – are they just gone? Do we know for a fact they can’t be saved?”

Lucretia stared at her- no, that word didn’t quite fit the feeling behind her inability to look away. Lucretia _admired_ her. Out of some kind of instinct she didn’t know she had, she reached out and grabbed Lup’s hand, holding it flat between her own.

“I want so much for that to be true.” Her thoughts turned to the past fifteen years, the past fifteen cycles, the past fifteen _worlds_. Some had been saved, but the ones that didn’t… What she wouldn’t give to know what really happened to them.

Moments passed without a word, without the slightest movement. Neither of them had an answer or even an inkling of an idea to the question Lup posed.

“When you died,” Lucretia began, finding something in her throat choking her up. Her hold on Lup’s hand remained, even curled to hold it better. “Do you remember what happened before you died?”

Lup sighed but returned with a smile. “I got a couple of lucky shots at the Hunger. I think I angered it more than anything. I got here.” She pointed to her shoulder. “And here.” She pointed to her stomach. “I hit them with a couple more firebolts – I mean, why conserve spell slots when you’re going to die or turn into light at any second, right? The last thing I saw was waves of the hunger covering the world and then I blacked out. Then I woke up on the Starblaster.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone else this?” Lucretia asked, her brows knitted together in worry.

“Seriously, no clue. At the time, it was just you and Davenport who hadn’t died yet,” Lup said. With her free hand, she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her pointed ear. “I can’t recall if the others saw what the Hunger did or if they died before they saw what I did, and honestly, I’m afraid to ask them. Talking about my _death?_ Doesn’t that feel like, fucked up? We’re in a weird fucking situation.”

Lucretia gave Lup’s hand a soft squeeze before setting her hand back down on her lap. “I can understand. The Captain tried to get me to open up about it.”

“You don’t need to just because I-“

Lucretia held up her hand, and Lup stopped.

“Honestly, I don’t remember it. I don’t remember a knowing I was being killed or what it felt like to be dead. One second I was there, and the next I was back on the Starblaster. You were the first person who greeted me and honestly, I’m so happy it was you.”

“Oh,” Lup cooed. She smiled, tilted her head slightly, and reached back up to Lucretia cheek, her thumb gliding across her skin to wipe away stray tears . “You’re crying again.”

Lucretia couldn’t help but laugh, a smile flushing her face.

“I missed you,” Lup confessed. “I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed having you near or, hell, just knowing you were alive until those last two months happened.” An awkward laugh slipped her mouth. “I mean, I love Taako but have you seen him, Magnus, and Merle run about when Davenport doesn’t have the time to reign them in? They’re impossible. The absolute worst.”

Lucretia laughed again, not bothering to hide it that time. Her stomach muscles ached from the crying she had done earlier, and the laughing didn’t help either. She closed her eyes and rested her hands on her stomach and then, the next thing she knew, both of Lup’s hands held her face and she felt the other woman’s lips upon her own.

Lup kissed her.

It felt like a dream. Afraid it might end like one too, Lucretia forced herself into the moment and kissed her back. Her hands moved from her stomach to Lup’s shoulders, sliding them up until they rested right below her ears, her thumbs gracing her jawline and her fingers pulling Lup’s head closer to her.

One kiss was followed by another, and then another until the kisses slowed and their lips parted, only barely so. Lucretia could feel Lup’s breath on her lips, her tongue, her cheeks. She could’ve sworn the moment lasted forever and a day. But it didn’t. Lup’s hands fell down to Lucretia’s shoulders and then slid down her arms, and she leaned back forward, not for another kiss but to rest her head on Lucretia’s shoulder. Lucretia could feel the warmth of Lup’s face through her clothes.

One hand rested on Lup’s head, smoothing back the woman’s hair as her other hand wrapped under Lup’s arm to hold her and pull her closer. She wondered if Lup could hear her heart, her head so close to her chest. Could she hear how fast it beat? Could she feel how much Lucretia loved her? She held onto her tight, unwilling and afraid to let go.


End file.
